Chapter Two: The Qi Condensation Manual and the Spirit Gathering Pill

Yu Chuan halted in his tracks and turned his head. The newcomer was none other than the Lady of the House. The servants of the Yu household immediately bowed deeply, as if in the presence of someone of utmost nobility.

Yu Chuan regarded her coldly, a sneer curling in his heart. She was merely from a collateral branch of the Yu family, just like him, yet dared to style herself as the Lady of the House.

“My courage is too great?” he said. “Aunt, you truly favor outsiders over your own. No matter what, I am still a scion of the Yu family. If he dares to snatch my food today, he’ll have the nerve to harm our kin tomorrow!”

Li Da, who had just regained consciousness, was terrified by these words. He had never expected that Yu Chuan, who had always borne his bullying in silence, would suddenly speak so eloquently. In just a few sentences, Yu Chuan had pinned a grave accusation on him. If word of this spread, and the Yu clan learned of it, he would have no chance of survival.

At once, he fell to his knees, kowtowing frantically. “Lady, please judge clearly! I have served in the Yu residence for over ten years and never dared show the slightest disrespect to the young masters!”

Yu Chuan kicked Li Da hard. “If you want to act like a dog, you should know your place. Not every dog is free to bite as it pleases.”

The Lady of the House approached at a measured pace and fixed her gaze on Yu Chuan. “Do you harbor some grudge against the Yu family?”

Yu Chuan narrowed his eyes. “Aunt, are you questioning me—or him?”

“I am asking you,” she replied.

After cleansing his marrow and veins, Yu Chuan understood that he was destined to transcend the mortal world. He had no intention of lingering in this wretched Yu family any longer.

“If a dog bares its fangs at its master, should I not give it a sound beating to teach it a lesson? If one day it goes mad and bites the other young masters in the house, what then? In my opinion, any dog bold enough to bite its master ought to be slaughtered and stewed.”

The Lady’s expression remained icy. “With such a temperament, how will you ever accomplish anything great? You cannot even tolerate the servants of the household. You are confined for ten days.”

Yu Chuan laughed in bitter anger. “To accuse me of intolerance without distinguishing right from wrong—what a baseless charge. I think it is you who cannot tolerate me. This miserable Yu family is no longer a place I can stay! Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west—do not bully the poor youth!”

Of course, the Lady of the House did not care about his words; she only wished to see him dead. This was not the first time. He had long seen through the faces of these people.

Though nominally a scion of the Yu family, in truth he was nothing.

Li Da and the others watched with smug satisfaction as Yu Chuan was sent to the dark cell, and immediately prostrated themselves before the Lady in reverence.

Bang!

Once again, he found himself back in the pitch-black room crawling with rats and snakes—the familiar smell, the familiar chill.

Yu Chuan lay on the straw-strewn bed, quietly pondering the Marrow Cleansing Pill from earlier that day. For ordinary people, that pill was a miraculous elixir capable of bestowing ascension.

Yet, astonishingly, it had burst forth from the body of a toad.

Squeak, squeak, squeak!

A commotion beneath the bed caught Yu Chuan’s attention. He peered down to see two rats locked in fierce combat, arms entwined.

Quick as lightning, Yu Chuan snatched one up in his hand.

If killing could yield treasures, he might as well try it with this rat. Pity the other one escaped—but no matter, there were plenty more here.

Crunch!

The little rat’s skull twisted grotesquely in his grip, its body convulsing before it suddenly began to swell.

Pop!

Blood spattered Yu Chuan’s face, and as the remains grew heavier in his hand, he discovered not only the rat’s corpse but also a thick ancient tome.

He wiped his face with his sleeve and cleaned the blood off the book as well. He then disposed of the rat’s remains and tossed them into his mouth.

Crunch, crunch...

Had it not been for these morsels, he would have starved long ago.

It seemed his guess was correct: as long as he killed, treasures would “drop.” He reined in his wandering thoughts and examined the book. Three bold characters graced the cover.

Qi Condensation Manual.

Blood surged in Yu Chuan’s veins—this was a bona fide immortal cultivation technique. Only those who passed the county’s recruitment trial and became Taoist acolytes were allowed to practice the Qi Condensation Manual.

And he had acquired it from a rat?

He recalled the seemingly worthless dream and suddenly understood. That “drop rate” must refer to the items produced upon killing.

If that was so, his drop rate must have been thoroughly broken. After all, a rat had yielded the Qi Condensation Manual—an absurdity far beyond mere popcorn.

Obtaining the manual meant he could cultivate without undergoing any trial.

He opened the book and found it replete with detailed annotations. Overjoyed, he began leafing through it with utmost care.

Though the cell was dim, Yu Chuan noticed little difference from the daylight; only the shadows were deeper, but it did not hinder him. He attributed this to the Marrow Cleansing Pill—he had never possessed such ability before.

In the days that followed, Yu Chuan devoted himself to cultivation as guided by the Qi Condensation Manual and spent every spare moment devising ways to catch more rats.

However, he did not kill the rats immediately, instead crippling them all first and then slaying them together—hoping for a larger haul.

His cultivation progressed steadily; on the first day, he managed to sense the energy described in the manual. But in the following three days, he could not find any so-called spiritual energy, let alone circulate it through his meridians or draw it into his spirit sea.

Strange—could it be that there was no spiritual energy left in this world?

Growing restless, Yu Chuan thoroughly reread the Qi Condensation Manual but found nothing amiss.

“Could it be that I am unable to cultivate?” The thought unnerved him.

In this world, cultivation indeed required certain prerequisites: talent and fortune. The recruitment trial was meant to test one’s fortune; only survivors could embark on the cultivation path. Those who could not cultivate were deemed lacking in talent and forever barred from the immortal way.

Yu Chuan was unwilling to stop here. He aspired to become a Taoist acolyte—how could he fall now?

He glanced at the dozen crippled rats, picked one up, and crushed it in his hand.

Pop!

Blood splattered his face and body, and his hand grew heavy—it felt like a bottle.

He wiped the blood from his face, cleaned the rat’s remains, tossed them into his mouth, and crunched away.

A Spirit-gathering Pill?

What was this for?

He poured out a purple pill the size of a longan from the bottle. The aroma was rich and utterly different from the Marrow Cleansing Pill.

Before consuming it, he acted his part, shouting toward the door, “Where’s my food? Where’s my meal?! I want to eat!!”

No response came, even after a long time.

Yu Chuan returned to his straw bed. It was obvious: someone intended to starve him to death in this place.

He poured out the pill, tilted his head back, and swallowed it.

A cool sensation spread through his abdomen, refreshing his entire body. As its name suggested, the Spirit-gathering Pill surely had something to do with spiritual energy.

Yu Chuan immediately began cultivating according to the Qi Condensation Manual, repeating the first layer’s incantation over and over.

Soon, he sensed the emergence of spiritual energy and managed to circulate it through his body.

After half a day, Yu Chuan opened his eyes in delight. The pill’s effects had been fully absorbed; he needed more.

With a smirk, he picked up another rat, determined to slaughter them all and see what treasures would drop.

“But it’s been days now, and not a single soul has brought me food. Do they mean to starve me, or do they think I don’t exist? I wonder… what would drop if I killed a person?”